


The softest of thunderstorms

by StoriesbyNessie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluffy Ending, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Massage, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Ron Weasley, Sad and Happy, Scars, caresses, naked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25109926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriesbyNessie/pseuds/StoriesbyNessie
Summary: Ron is scared of thunder. Draco finds a way how to soothe him.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley
Comments: 24
Kudos: 128
Collections: Hermione's Nook Naked Weasley Fest!





	The softest of thunderstorms

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thank you so much to the amazing KoraKunkel for being my beta and doing such a wonderful job in such a short time. Also thank you to the wonderful people in Hermione's Nook for hosting this fest; it was a joy to play.

**The softest of thunderstorms**

“What’s that?” Ron asked once they heard the sound, raving madly, threatening to rip everything around them apart. He stood by the bay window, blue eyes looking anxiously outside where dark grey, angry and very big clouds gathered on the sky.

“Thunder,” Draco drawled matter-of-factly from his position on the sofa, not looking up from the book he was reading. It was a heavy emerald coloured thing that Ron imagined could cause a lot of pain if accidentally dropped on one’s foot.

“Oh,” Ron said, trying to sound normal. Well, nothing to worry about then. Everything was cool. He was fine, everything was fi—

Something in the sky roared again, this time much louder than the last. Flashes of white and yellow appeared as Ron’s eyes fixed on the clouds, momentarily lightening the sky and the dark sitting room of Draco’s flat. The rain poured too, hitting the pavement so hard the drops seemed to bounce off the ground. It was as though somebody had ripped the entire sky open.

Ron’s pulse pounded in his ears, he was fine, no worries. He wrung his hands and paced back and forth, wanting to move away from the window but he couldn’t; it was like he was stuck there.

_I don’t like… I don’t…_

Draco, his boyfriend of six months, muttered something from his seat and turned another page in the book. A couple of minutes of silence passed; the only sounds heard were the thundering outside. It was so loud it drowned out the usual noise of the large ticking clock that hung on the opposite wall next to Draco’s grand bookcase.

A bolt of lightning struck down right in front of Ron’s eyes, making him involuntarily jump.

_Shit._

Hopefully, Draco didn’t see that.

“Weasley, what are you— ”

Ron started again as Draco’s voice rang through the room. Annoyed with himself, Ron turned his head away from the window only to see Draco sat with a smirk. He looked amused.

“Are you… scared?” Draco asked, nodding to the window. He put down the book beside himself on the sofa before getting to his feet. The rain poured and sounded like a thousand spears as it hit the ground. A new flash of lightning lit up the sky and that was it for Ron Weasley. He suddenly felt extremely warm and couldn’t stand by the window any longer.

“You are,” Draco said without waiting for a reply, smirking still.

Ron scowled, so typical of Draco to be enjoying this. He crossed his arms defiantly over his chest and walked across the floor in the sitting room, up to the bookcase. It was a huge mahogany thing that went from ceiling to floor and filled to the brim with Draco’s endless amount of books. The man was almost on Hermione-level with his reading since the war. Ron didn’t understand the joy in it— he didn’t touch books unless he had to, the only exception of entertainment reading was the Chudley Cannons books.

“No, I’m not,” Ron replied, wincing at the defensive tone in his voice. Of course he wasn’t. He wasn’t some coward— for Merlin’s sake, he had fought in the Battle of Hogwarts, gone on a Horcrux hunt, seen dead people, including his own brother—though Ron didn’t like to think about that part, it made his heart hurt—escaped a stupidly large spider… The list went on and on. He had been sorted into Gryffindor and that house had courage written all over it. Ron _was_ brave. The darkness outside the window, it was nothing!

_Nothing!_

“Yes you are,” Draco continued, moving slightly towards Ron. “You’re all pale, Weasley. Look rather sweaty too.”

Ron wanted to object to that, but Draco had walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, slow and careful in an attempt to not startle him. The weight of the hand felt comforting and safe. Warm.

“It’s okay,” Draco murmured next to him. “You’re safe in here. The lightning is not going to bite you. Just don’t go outside and you’ll be fine.” There was a hint of a smile in Draco’s tone and Ron turned his head to look at him. He shot him a confused look; he wasn’t used to Draco being this… this… _affectionate._

Sure, they were in a relationship and all, Ron didn’t really doubt that Draco liked him and enjoyed his company — he must, they hung out all the time. They had their differences of course: Ron could be hotheaded and moody and Draco cunning and closed off with strong walls built around him. So, seeing him show a bit of affection outside of the bedroom walls was strange, Ron couldn’t deny that. But maybe he shouldn’t question things, after all, a lot wasn’t the same anymore. When they both had been schoolboys, Ron couldn’t ever had imagined Draco as a future partner at all.

Secretly, he had thought the light-blonde, mean boy was extremely cute, but he had kept it to himself and denied it for many years. It really had been the world of upside-down and inside-out the first time Draco had kissed him at a random party Harry hosted at Grimmauld place six months ago. It was amazing how Malfoy—out of all people—could make Ron’s heart race like that and make him feel so genuinely happy, when it used to be quite the opposite before. He even smiled now when Draco teased him and argued with him about the Cannons that he loved and Draco hated to no end.

With gentle hands, Draco brought Ron closer to him and held him in a warm, tight hug that made something in Ron’s stomach tingle like a butterfly flapping its wings. Outside it roared again, both by the windows and over their heads. Ron couldn’t help how he trembled a little, fighting hard not to let it show, but of course Draco had already exposed him. So, Ron buried his face in the crook of Draco’s neck and allowed himself to be held by the other wizard. Draco stroked him soothingly over the back as Ron’s arms wrapped around his frame too.

“Fucking hate thunder,” Ron muttered sullenly, voice a little muffled from his mouth being buried in Draco’s warm skin.

“I know you do,” Draco said quietly. “It’s okay.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Everyone has something they fear, Weasley,” Draco said. “Some are better at hiding it than others, but everyone fears _something.”_

Ron wasn’t sure what Draco meant by that, but it was nice to be held, comforting in a way that he couldn’t deny. There was only one problem with all of this: he couldn’t relax. A headache began to form from all the tension and his heart pounded away like mad in his chest.

Breath coming out in nervous shallow puffs, he started to pull away from Draco’s embrace in the now even darker room, only lit up occasionally by the lightning strike. And the sounds… Sweet Merlin’s arse, the sounds… Ron hated them. The louder it was, the closer the lightning was, that much he knew. The claps of thunder were the worst of everything. The lightning couldn’t go through the roof, could it? Or break the window? How sturdy was this building, anyway?

Anxious thought after anxious thought raced through his mind. He hated himself for being so utterly childish—Draco must think so too. Ron felt so weak; what happened to the strong, brave Gryffindor? Where had that guy gone?

_Fuck._

Ron’s ears reddened furiously; he could feel them heat along with his cheeks. _Great. Just fucking great._

“So tense, Weasley…” Draco said quietly, raking a hand through Ron’s red hair and kissed the locks. “Come on. I know something that can help you relax.”

“What?” Ron lifted his head from Draco’s shoulder and looked at him, anxious blue eyes meeting glittering stormy grey. “Draco… I’m… I’m not in the mood.”

And he really wasn’t. Ron didn’t want to have sex; he wasn’t sure he could get it up now even no matter how cute or sexy Draco was.

Draco gave him that sort of smile that said o _h you sweet lovable idiot_ before letting Ron go and taking both of his hands in his own. If Ron hadn’t been so freaked out, he would probably have glared at his boyfriend. But right now, he allowed the silent comment to pass without saying anything and let Draco lead the way.

He took Ron to his bedroom at the other end of the large flat he lived in. It was dark, the curtains were pulled close to shut out the light on sunny days—Draco had paintings hanging on the dark grey walls and he claimed they were sensitive to sunlight. His large bed was the centerpiece of the room, with dark purple bedding and matching decorative pillows.

Draco pulled out his wand from the pocket of his robes and lit the candles on the bedside table. With another flick, he put on some classical music on the wireless that stood on top of a drawer. He worked fast as Ron stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure on what to do except watch. He smiled a little as he watched his boyfriend, feeling his tense expression softening, but he was still doubtful and a bit nervous that Draco had some weird idea on his brain.

“You need something else to concentrate on, Weasley,” Draco declared, turning to face Ron once he was done. His eyes twinkled in the light of the candle and Ron drew in a breath. Scared or not, Draco was so… hot. He flushed again at the thought, but it was the truth. Draco was beautiful and every word associated with that.

Draco walked up to him and kissed him, slow and warm, his tongue easily slipping inside Ron’s mouth with familiarity. “I’ll show you how,” he whispered against Ron’s mouth when they pulled apart. “Just trust me.”

Ron felt a nervous twitch in the pit of his stomach. This was so unlike Draco, but Ron liked it; wanted it. It was nice.

***

Draco’s eyes raked appreciatively over Ron’s tall form clad in a red-blue chequered shirt and dark trousers that accentuated his long legs. Ron looked at him like he wanted to shrink under his gaze, cheeks and ears reddening almost as much as his hair.

Draco took a small step back into the room and took it all in. He knew Ron was everything: strong, brave, kind, loyal, protective… He was wonderful, adorable and stubborn as all hell and made Draco’s blood boil in lots of different ways. It was infuriating how Weasley also made him feel other things, things Draco always had a hard time showing. They were those kinds of feelings that made people all mushy and sweet and _boneless._

_Love._

When Ron looked at him like he did now, blue eyes all sad and worried, Draco couldn’t help but want to… take care of him and hold him tight, kiss away the fears. It was so unlike him; was that what being in a relationship did to people?

Draco didn’t know, he just knew he had never truly felt like this before. He leant forward and kissed Ron lightly on his freckle-splattered cheeks before asking him to close his eyes. Ron hesitated a little, but obeyed.

The redhead still stood awkwardly by the threshold, so Draco took his hands again and led him inside as Ron’s eyes remained shut.

“Promise no sex,” Draco breathed close to Ron’s warm ear and felt him shudder against him. “But I am going to undress you. The whole point is to make you relax, nothing else.”

Ron nodded without a word, biting his lip a little uncertainly.

Draco started to unbutton his shirt with careful fingers. “I just want to take care of you…” he said quietly and was glad for Ron’s closed eyes because the words almost made him grimace. _Take care of you?_ Merlin and Salazar, that was sappy. Annoyingly so.

A smile came over Ron’s lips. “You’re weird. But… thanks.”

Draco didn’t respond. Instead, he pulled Ron’s shirt past broad shoulders and struggled a little to get his arms out of the material, the shirt being a little tighter than Draco had expected. Ron’s shirts seemed more fitted in general now when he didn’t have to wear his brothers old clothes all the time, though having money after the war didn’t stop him from not particularly caring about his wardrobe. Draco still caught him wearing his old hand-me-downs from time to time and had debated with himself a lot to burn it all and then buy an entirely new wardrobe for Ron.

Draco pulled Ron’s trousers past his long, pale legs and large feet, leaving the underwear on and tossing shirt and trousers over a nearby chair. Once he was done, he silently took Ron’s hands in his again, enjoying the warmth of them.

“Come,” Draco said, walking backwards with Ron obediently following. “Lie down on the bed.” When he felt the mattress hit the back of his thighs, he moved so Ron could climb in. “Lie on your back, Weasley.”

The redhead lay on top of the covers, his head on Draco’s favourite pillow and his eyes still closed. Draco stood by the bed and took in the full sight of his boyfriend: pale skin, freckles, scars.

_Everyone has their scars._

Draco walked around the bed and climbed up on the other side. He sat on his knees beside Ron and lifted his hand to brush away his red hair from his forehead. With gentle fingers, Draco caressed the skin, starting by Ron’s hairline, going over his temples, working his way to the middle of his forehead, down his long nose, cheeks, mouth… Draco stroked in small soothing circles, massaging him in an effort to make him relax.

Ron was still tense, but the longer Draco kept working his way over the flesh, the more his facial expression seemed to soften. His mouth relaxed and unable to stop himself, Draco bent down to pepper Ron’s face with light kisses, kissing his forehead, nose and either cheek. Ron snickered a little which caused him to slightly shake.

Draco kissed his mouth, hoping to shush him. “Lie still, Weasley. Try to stay calm.”

He shifted next to Ron, massaging the sides of the man’s neck and over his shoulders. He ran the palm of his hand over Ron’s chest, tracing the freckles and teasingly rubbing over his pink nipples. Ron snickered silently again as he reacted to the touch and this time, Draco said nothing about it. He focused on tracing the freckles with gentle fingertips, connecting all the dots.

Weasley’s body was full of imperfections; the skin was dry against Draco’s fingers, almost coarse to the touch. Every freckle had a tale to tell, every scar a history behind it. Ron had scars from when the brains attacked him at the Department of Mysteries when they were in their fifth year, continuing to a swirled pattern across both arms and over his hands. He had battle scars from when he fought in the war, one long on one side of his belly that Draco kissed from the starting point all the way down to where it ended by the waistband of his boxers. He wondered to himself how he got it, Weasley had never told him that.

“How did you—” Draco began curiously, unable to stop himself. He lifted his head and looked at Ron who still had his eyes shut.

“Don’t want to talk about it,” Ron muttered in reply and Draco didn’t push the question further.

_Everyone has their scars. Every scar has a story. Maybe Weasley would feel comfortable enough to tell his one day._

Draco’s hands wandered to Weasley’s thighs, varying between stroking and kneading the flesh, tentatively and loving. As his hand slid up the inside of his right thigh, Draco felt it. Something peculiar and perhaps recent, that he hadn’t noticed before and he had seen Weasley naked a lot during the six months they had been together. Draco looked up to check on Ron, who didn’t move and now breathed evenly and much calmer than before. Taking a chance, he dared to push the material of Ron’s underwear up ever so slightly and his eyes widened at what he found. Ron lay with his legs slightly apart on the mattress and the inside of the right thigh had six pink scars, cut clean, too neatly and strategically to be caused by an accident. He leant his head to one side, _when the hell had Weasley got those?_

Draco wanted to know everything, simply because he was curious; he refused to acknowledge that it made him worried. Though for the time being, he thought, it was probably another thing Ron didn’t want to talk about. So, Draco simply bent down and pressed a kiss to each of the scars. He felt Ron suck in a breath, gasping a little as Draco’s mouth made contact with sensitive parts of his body. Draco calmly continued kissing over knees and shins, appreciating and savoring every inch.

Ron had so, so many freckles—they were never-ending on him. He had the most on his face and upper body over his chest, and some that went down on his belly but his legs weren’t bad in that department either. When he came down to Ron’s feet and toes and started to kiss each of them, he looked up and noticed Ron had been watching him. His sapphire eyes were burning with intensity, not the kind of desire, but intensity all the same.

Draco felt himself blush, his cheeks turning warmer. He had the strange sensation that he had been caught doing something forbidden and he wasn’t sure why. But as their eyes met, he climbed up to Ron and the redhead wrapped his arms around Draco, kissing the top of his head.

“You’re so cute,” he mumbled and pulled Draco close in a tight hug, squeezing hard for a few seconds before he relaxed his grip. “This helped… thank you.”

“Look at me, protecting you from the big bad thunderstorm outside,” Draco said and glanced up at Ron. “I expect to be rewarded sometime soon.”

Ron snorted. “You do, huh? Of course you do.” He stroked Draco’s cheek with a wide hand. “Thanks for not saying anything about… you know.”

Draco swallowed before nodding. “Yes… I… You didn’t want me to ask about the one on your belly so I— ”

“Yeah, I know,” Ron interrupted him and gave him another kiss, this time on Draco’s temple. “It’s my monsters. There’s not much to tell really… except that.”

_As long as you don’t disappear on me Weasley, can you promise that?_

Ron leant his back against the headboard, allowing Draco to snuggle up beside him and rest his head against Ron’s chest. They lay like that for a moment in silence while the thunder was still in full rage outside. Draco lazily let his fingers play over Ron’s skin, making out patterns among all his freckles.

“I love you, Weasley,” he said with a racing heart and too quietly for Ron to hear. Draco hoped he hadn’t anyway; he had never said it to anyone like this before.

Ron stirred beneath him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Draco quickly replied. “I’m glad it helped.”

“Okay,” Ron smiled, Draco’s white-blonde hair tickling his nose. “Nothing to you too.”

_Fin_


End file.
